Tales of Cheek: Spring
by Killy-S
Summary: Spring has arrived at Redwall Abbey. Cheek sets off to help Skipper and his crew at the Spring fishing camp and runs into a curious ottermaid. Features characters from Mattimeo and Redwall Cookbook.
1. Chapter 1

A/N

Hello everyone,

Spring has finally sprung in my neck of the woods. So why not celebrate with Cheek: Tale of Spring. This one is going to be a two part tale. I'll try to have the rest up ASAP. For those of you following Fur and Flame, never fret I'm still working on that too. I will have new chapters up as soon as I get them edited. This piece is edited by me, and considering I only got 50% in my grammar course, you can expect a number of errors. (This is why I'm having F&F edited properly.)

If you have a moment please leave a comment. I'd love to know what you think of this story. If anyone would care to suggest or request other Redwall short stories I would love to hear from you.

….

The seasons were changing, the cold cover of winter, was at last being transformed to the cheerful overlay of spring time. Out in the orchards of Redwall Abbey, the fruit trees were forming buds, with the promise of fresh fruit soon to come. With the arrival of the new season, so came new duties.

The entire Stump family was busy at work in the gardens. Following the melting of winter snow, debris and dead vegetation littered the grounds. Each of the burly hedgehog maids welded a rake with sturdy paws clearing the earth for seeding. Their brother Jubilation, or Jube as he preferred to be known, pushed a hefty wheelbarrow over to the growing pile of plant debris.

"We'll soon be ready to plough and seed, so we will." Jabez Stump remarked to his son. Taking up a pitch fork he helped load up the wheelbarrow.

Jube nodded in agreement. "Father Abbot will be pleased no doubt. " Taking the handles he pushed the wheelbarrow off to the far region of the gardens. All around Redwallers rolled up their sleeves to tend the plants that remained through all seasons, and prepare the earth for new seedlings. As Jube approached his destination, another group of workers toiled. Foremole and his crew were delighted to get their digging claws into the ground once more. The first request on the mole crew; was a second compost pit. Right alongside the first, Foremole and his trusty moles fashioned a square shaped trench. It was nearly as deep as one mole and large enough for the group of six to lie down in. Watching the work was Cheek Stag Otter. He had been set the task of assisting the mole crew, and seeing to the compost pile. Foremole climbed out of the newly dug pit, a clothespin placed over his snout.

"Hurr, us 'uns be done ee hole. Now young'uns, ee can start heaving ee composter in this 'ere pit, for the sunshoin to bake. Oi'll go on to t' 'h'abbey t' wash up an' 'elp out where oi is needed, burr oi. Oi Loiks digging ee 'oles but doint loik the smell of composter." Tugging his pinned snout respectfully, he and his crew headed back in the direction of great hall.

With a light sigh , Cheek began shoveling in the plant debris into the new pit, adding some of the older compost along with it to help break things down.

"Why the long face Cheek, upset you have to do a day's honest labour?" The Hedgehog laughed watching last autumns dried and weathered leaves tumble into the fresh dug earth.

"Hardly." Huffed Cheek. "Don't have a problem with working, thankee kindly."

Shaking his head spikes indifferently, Jube continued about his work. Once the wheelbarrow was emptied he turned it around and headed back to pick up more debris. "If you're going to be in a foul mood on this fine spring day, I'd just assume not talk to you." Trudging on he left the otter to till the compost pile alone.

Mattimeo, son of Matthias the Warrior, was helping the Brothers and Sisters of Redwall prepare seedlings to be set in the soil. When Jube came lumbering back with the wheelbarrow, he nudged his friend. "What's got Cheek so down?" The young mouse thought it odd, that the usually jolly otter was in such low spirits.

The hedgehog shrugged his brawny shoulders. " I dunno, been like that three days now. "

Tess the pretty mousemaid, passed Mattimeo a clay pot containing several pea sprouts. "I can tell you two exactly what is wrong with our friend." She said matter-of-factly.

Mattimeo knelt, using a small trowel he dug into the freshly tilled earth. Planting the contents of the clay pot, he patted the earth around the small plant. Beside each plant he pressed some reed stakes Brother Rufus had cut for the young plants to climb. Peering up at Tess, he twitched his whiskers wondering what details she might know that was so unknown to the others. "And, what might that be? Do tell Tess."

Brushing dry soil from her paws, the mousemaid nodded towards the forlorn looking otter. "It is really simple actually. It was only three days ago that Tummscoff left us to travel to the western shores to join up with The Long Patrol. With his cousin gone, Cheek has lost his chief partner in crime. Now, Sister Pansy is bound to blame him for every candied nut that goes astray. "Laughing softly she passed Mattimeo another clay pot. "In all seriousness, I believe he misses his cousin quite a lot. The same can be said for Mr. Basil Stag Hare as well, although neither Cheek nor him is quite willing to show it openly. Try to go easy on our friend I'm sure he'll come around in no time."

Orlando the Badger Lord of the western plain, stood on the western wall top observing his territory. He now lived as a badger of peace, along with his daughter Auma. Each enjoyed the splendor and safety Redwall Abbey could offer. His beloved child had grown to become an astute student under the direction of Constance, Redwall's Badgermother. While he had hung his great axe in the Abbey's great hall, he couldn't help but feel it missing from his paws. The past few evenings, his dreams had been clouded with visions of the far western shores. They had only grown more vivid, with the departure of the young hare. Hearing the pawsteps of Auma, he pushed these thoughts from his mind.

"Daughter, what brings you to the ramparts?" His deep voice rumbled, even as he spoke those gentle words.

"The small matter of tilling the remaining gardens, as a matter of fact." The badgermaid carefully gathered up the billowing blue skirts she wore, not wanting to trip on the narrow wall top stairs. "Abbot Alf doesn't wish to trouble you. Several of the Abbey Brother's have offered to help pull and push the plough along, but a pawful of mice do not equal the strength of you father. They've already exhausted themselves doing the smaller gardens. "

Turning his eyes from the western plain the large badger followed his daughter, eager to assist in the agricultural preparation. The hefty badger approached the group of habit garbed mice, trying to shift the large piece of farming equipment.

"Easy there friends," The kindly badger relieved them of their burden. "We shall soon have the crops sown, and planted." Taking hold of the iron plough, Orlando pushed with all his might. The curved blades cut through the soft soil, up turning the earth, making ready for fresh plants. Behind him the Redwall brothers, each with sacks of seeds strapped over their sides, scattered the seeds throughout the fresh soil. Each was grateful for the strength of Orlando, for the labour could be completed all the faster.

Discovering a rather glum looking Cheek the large badger approached, his muscular paws spread wide as though to embrace the young creature. "Well now young Cheek, why the sour face?" Catching the scent of compost, clinging to Cheek's fur Orlando waved a paw about his nose. "Goodness, young 'un. Smells as though you've up and died on us."

The young otter frowned, annoyed at his elder's attempt to cheer him up. "I've been tending to t'compost pile as I was told."

Grinning broadly the mighty badger scooped up the otter as though he were naught but a babe. Tossing him over one shoulder he marches right for the Abbey pond holding his nose comically. "Well then you sir, there is only one thing to do with you."

Cheek wriggled and squirmed in Orlando's arms clearly not in the mood for these games. The Badger was only trying to make the otter laugh. Wading into the shallows of the pond, Orlando continued until the water came to his middle. "Alright Cheek, time for your bath young 'un."

Kicking and growling Cheek protested. "Set me down this instant stripe dog. Down, I say!"

"Down you say? Well alright." Laughing deeply Orlando nearly dropped the thrashing Cheek into the cold pond water. For one brief moment Cheek vanished under the surface of the water. With a mad thrashing of his paws and rudder like tail he soon was upright. Orlando backed away quickly to avoid the waves kicked up by Cheek. Chuckling deeply he returned to the side of the pond watching as the otter swam back to shore grumbling and mumbling.

Sam Squirrel had finished pruning the tall orchard trees with his mother. Seeing what had taken place he hurried over to see the state of his friend. "I guess your clean now, eh Cheek?" He laughed as the otter shook his soaked coat dry. Striding forward, the squirrel tried to cheer up his pal with further comments.

"Oh, come on grumpy rudder, It was only a joke. You needed a bit of a cool down anyway."

Cheek huffed crossly. Narrowing his eyes he peered down at Sam, and before the squirrel could jest further Cheek's fist struck out hard clipping his friend in the jaw. Bowled over Sam clutched his face, wincing in pain. Blinking, he gazed up at his friend in disbelief.

…..

Basil Stag Hare, now graying with age, sat in cavern hole. The aging hare stroked his waxed whiskers, temporarily lost in thought. His eyes gazed past the figure standing before him. Cheek felt very small standing in front of his adoptive father. Trouble always seemed to find Cheek, however Basil was always quick to forgive those minor shortcomings. After all, Basil too had pinched many a scone or broken the odd dish in his younger seasons. Striking out at a friend in anger, that was a far different matter. Cheek bowed his head and gazed at the stone floor. His tail dragged slowly back and forth in nervous habit. The young otter kept hoping one of the hedgehog cellar keepers, or abbey kitchen helpers might wander in and interrupt. Throughout Redwall word quickly spread and nobeast wanted to interrupt Basil.

Huffing loudly the old hare's whiskers twitched. "Well, wot have ye to say for yerself laddie buck?" His tone was that of saddened disappointment rather than anger.

Cheek would have preferred to be yelled at, had Basil shouted at him it would have been far easier to bear.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled lowly, his voice hoarse.

Tilting his head, Basil's right ear perked up. "Sorry sah couldn't quite hear that. "

Rising his head, Cheek stood up straight squaring his shoulders. Gazing directly at the hare he spoke clearly. "I'm sorry Basil, won't happen again."

Basil shook his head. "I should say not. No sense 'apologizing t'me young sir, t'wasn't me you punched in the bally jaw now was it, wot wot." He tapped his small wooden walking stick on the chair leg a moment before continuing. "Why would you do such a thing Cheek, it isn't like you at all?"

Cheek lowered his head again. "They were all picking on me, I wasn't in the mood."

Sighing heavily Basil ceased his tapping, laying the stick across his lap. "If that was the case, you tell the chaps' t'boil their heads, not go about punching good creatures. I raised you to be a gentlebeast not a bally scoundrel. "When the otter said nothing he reached out with his walking stick tipping Cheeks chin up till their eyes met. "Isn't like my Cheek to be in a foul mood. Go on then, wot have you to report. Tell this old foggy all about it wot."

"It's nothing." Cheek said quickly.

"You've caused a lot of commotion for just nothing. Speak your mind young otter; let us get to the bottom of all this mess. "Withdrawing his stick, he sat back giving Cheek space to speak.

Clearing his throat several times Cheek began nervously. "It's… Well… It's Tummscoff. When he decided to join up with the Long Patrol, you were overjoyed. You helped Mr. Churchmouse copy those old maps from the Abbey archive and everything. But, when I wanted to go with him, you told me my place was here. "

"Cheek, Tummscoff comes from a long line of fighting hares. 'tis in his blood to patrol and fight vermin. Salamandastron isn't the place for a jolly otter lad such as y'self. I miss the young scallywag as much as you, but you young sir belong at Redwall among peaceful creatures."

"I want adventure, Basil. " Cheek said longingly. "When you first found me, I was living all alone in the woodlands. I hardly think another little adventure though Mossflower would do me any harm. 'sides I've already fought vermin."

"Yes, as a young rip you did see some action. Don't forget my lad, when we fought against Slagar and Malkariss we had a number of good comrades with us. We would have been in a great deal of trouble had it not been for the jolly ole Guosim, and Sparra warriors. That's not including Orlando or the warriors of Redwall; you were hardly fighting in single combat laddie buck. "

Cheek sighed heavily. "If I were a hare you would've let me go in a heartbeat. "

Basil's ears drooped some, hurt by the quick statement. "Now now Cheek, y'know that isn't true."

"Isn't it? I've listened all winter to the stories of bygone battles. You always approved of the way Tummscoff's eyes lit up. You taught the both of us, how to hide in the woodlands, how to bob and weave. Yet you let Tummscoff go, and I have to stay back. "

"That's because you're my son Cheek, and I'm not about to let anything happen to you. " Both creatures paused gazing towards each other a moment. Shaking his graying head Basil raised a paw. "I suppose every bird has to jolly well fly the nest sooner or later wot? If you're so set on adventure, this is wot I propose; Skipper of Otters and his crew are at their spring fishing camp along River Moss. No more than a day's march away I should think. At first light tomorrow, head out there, and tell the good Skipper that Basil Stag Hare sent you. Might do you a touch of good to spend time with other otters your own age, eh wot. Spend a few weeks with that lot, it will build character, and give you a bit of flippin' adventures. Afterwards, you nip back to Redwall and we can discuss what you might like t'do long term. Now, how does that scheme sound t'you?"

"Top notch Basil." The young otter beamed. "I'll start packing." Cheek turned, about to scamper off when Basil stopped him.

"Steady in the ranks young Cheek, there is still the matter of the crack y'gave to young Sam Squirrel."

Cheek's whiskers drooped. "Oh, right. What do you want me to do?"

Basil scratched his chin trying to think of appropriate punishment. "A proper apology is in order I should say. A written one should suffice, be sure to let the chap know how jolly sorry you are for the mishap. Next y'ought to take on the rest of his chores, let the squirrel chap relax while you do all his duties. See Sister Pansy, perhaps she has some pans t'scrub. That's the sort of disciplinary action these Redwall types like t'assign young rips isn't it? "Squinting one eye, the aged hare thought on the punishment. It didn't seem to be quite enough, so he quickly added. "No second helpings, and no dessert following supper. "

Cheek didn't mind the thought of extra chores or apologizing, he was truly sorry for striking Sam. However, no second helpings of Abbey food, and no dessert. His heart sank, especially when he knew Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse were preparing a special berry crumble to celebrate the planting of the gardens. "Bit much don't you think Basil?" Cheek pouted some.

"Hardly, in my day you'd be landed on a fizzer for such actions. Off y'go young sir. I hope you've learned a bally lesson from all this wot. "

Bowing his head Cheek left to start the tasks assigned to him. On the way he passed Matthias the Warrior. The mouse stepped aside winking at the young otter, before strolling from the kitchens to cavern hole. "You didn't beat him too hard I see." He smiled at his old friend. "

Standing slowly the old hare leaned on his walking stick. "Would have chopped off his rudder, but the poor chap might topple over. An' he's funny looking enough as is."

"No, a rudderless otter would be a sad sight." Matthias had heard some of the conversation so he asked. "Are you certain about letting him go?"

Fixing his waxed whiskers Basil nodded slowly. "If I keep him here much longer, the young buck will just grow to resent me. Sometimes I forget what it was like to be that age, full of blood an' vinegar, looking for adventure around every turn. This will be good for Cheek."


	2. Chapter 2

With no complaint or hesitation Cheek took on the extra chores and duties as penance for his outburst. To all the abbey dwellers that observed the young otter, he had taken these responsibilities to heart. At supper Sam squirrel sporting a heavy bandage about his jaw, was surprised to receive a folded parchment letter from Cheek. The otter shifted his rudder like tail nervously. "I know this won't make up for the crack I gave you. But I hope it will help some."

Sam offered up a lopsided smile, wincing painfully he patted his bruised jaw. Taking the letter he nodded wanting to show his friend no real harm had be done. Patting the bench space beside him Sam invited his pal to join him for supper. To his surprise Cheek shook his head and began heading off towards the kitchens.

"Can't I'm afraid. Got to get back to work, then packing, off first thing in the morning dontcha know."

Elmtail the squirrel eyed the special onion and wild mushroom broth Sister May had made for Sam. The recipe had been passed through the generations of the healing sister's family. It was only made for Redwallers who had an injury or ailment that made it difficult to chew or swallow food. Breaking off a piece of nut bread Elmtail reached forward trying to dip the morsel into the fabled broth. His concentration was suddenly broken, having caught the last of Cheek's statement.

"Off first thing in the morning? Where's ole rudder bottom going?" he asked sighing as Sam moved a paw to protectively guard his supper.

"Father says Basil has given him permission to stay with Skipper and his otter crew for a while." Mattimeo explained amid mouthfuls of Deeper 'n ever pie.

"Humph, I give him two days then he'll be back here hungry as ever."

"Now that isn't very nice to say Elmtail." Tess whispered in an almost motherly tone.

"But it's true; I mean the lad no offence. Cheek's just becoming less otter like with ever seasons. It's as though he's becoming a hare. Haven't you noticed, not only does he eat like old Basil, Cheek's even starting to sound a bit like him."

Just before dawn Cheek awoke in his dormitory. The other Redwall youth he shared lodgings with were asleep. Not wishing to awake anybeast he slipped out of bed and pulled on his green tunic. Pawing about in the darkness he found his reed woven belt, with a belt buckle fashioned from one Basil had worn during his patrolling days. Once he was properly dressed he tossed aside the fallen blanket, reaching under his bed he grabbed the haversack packed with supplies to get him though till he found the otter camp. The bed he left unmade, Basil had been always very strict on having beds properly made each morning. Prior to moving to live at Redwall it had been part of the morning ritual in the small den house. However, given that he was leaving for awhile Cheek thought perhaps he could get away with one minor laps of duty.

Casting one last look over his slumbering friends he quietly paced towards the door. The old door gave a long squeak as it was pushed open. Anxiously Cheek looked about to see if it had awaken anybeast, pleased it wasn't the case he stepped out into the hall. He might have left without notice had a young mousebabe not left his little wooden wagon right outside the dormitory door. Unable to see the toy in the low light, Cheek stepped right upon it and was sent head over rudder onto the hard sandstone floor. The clatter awoke several Redwallers who rushed to see the cause of the commotion. Winded but unharmed Cheek slowly rose up brushing himself off sheepishly amid the blinking onlookers.

"Sorry about that, go on back to sleep I was just heading out. Nothing to see here wo…er never mind. "

Showing more caution, Cheek avoided any additional obstacles in his path making it to the small side wall gate. Shutting the gate behind him he looked out towards the woodlands. Fixing the pack on his back he took a deep breath and started out. Adventure at long last awaited him.

A/N

Remember when I said this was a two part fic…. I may have fibbed a bit. Yes this is short but I feel rather wretched for going on holiday and not posting anything for an age. So I hope this will tide you over for another few days till I finish the rest.

Killy


	3. Chapter 3

By midmorning Cheek began to wonder if any adventures at all awaited him. He hadn't encountered another creature along the way, save for the song birds. Outside of their unending singing they seemed to have no interest in anything. Leaning against a birch tree the young otter heaved a sigh. He was already tired, and growing to be quite hungry. Back at Redwall he was sure a midmorning snack was being shared out for those taking a break from their duties. Closing his eyes he licked his lips dreamily, his friends were probably enjoying hot oat cakes drizzled with honey. The sun was warm perhaps Abbot Alf had set apple slices to dry in the sun until they were sweet and chewy. Smacking his lips at the idea Cheek continued on his way. Spying some old acorns hidden among the ground cover, he wondered if Sam's mother Jess Squirrel was making her famous nut bread. His stomach growled placing a paw over it he sighed again. Perhaps he should go back, if only just for lunch. Sister Pansy had seen to it that Cheek had enough food to travel for two days, however despite the good sister's instructions Cheek had a larger than planned breakfast. His haversack was noticeably lighter; while this would make it easier to hike through the woodlands it would mean a lighter lunch and even lighter supper.

Trying to push thoughts of food aside Cheek marched onward. His mind turned to Tummscoff, his cousin had a far larger appetite than him, and he had a far longer journey to make. Cheek had only to find Skipper's spring camp, which by Basil's estimation was only a day away. Pausing to look though the lush greenery the young otter grumbled. The realization dawned on him; while the camp was only supposed to be a day off he didn't know which direction.

As he continued to fret over his current circumstance a welcoming sound greeted the otter's ear. Running water was nearby. Water would lead him straight to the otter camp. After all, otters couldn't have a fishing camp without fish. Climbing up over the embankment he dug his foot paws into the soft loam, scrambling to reach the river. As he crested the small hill he was met by an unexpected sight, sure enough in the distance was the river but he could also make out a figure. Unable if this beast was friend or foe he instantly remembered Basil's training. Ducking for cover he bobbed and weaved though the bushes. Using any branch or shrub for cover he crossed the woodlands until he could hear the beast singing.

"The cold nights of winter behind us at last

Now free flows the river o're woodland and plain.

So sweetly the bird calls guiding her bonny lad home

As I'd call to you if you were still mine

The bushes sprout berries now breaking our fast

Soon summers sweet kisses will be on us again

So sweetly the bird calls guiding her bonny lad home

As I'd call to you if you were still mine

From rivers to streams to a bubbling brook

Then out to the ocean you're destined to ride

So sweetly the bird calls guiding her bonny lad home

As I'd call to you if you were still mine"

Pausing in her song a beautiful young ottermaid washed herself in the river, her back to Cheek. From his cover behind a bush he watched nervously as the ottermaid splashed water with her elegant tail kicking up rose smelling soap suds. She turned her head slowly continuing her sweet song.

"And who be this scoundrel who dares to come look

I can hear you from the bushes where you hide…"

Blinking several times Cheek realized the maid was singing about him rising from his cover he brushed bits of shrub from his tunic, not skipping a beat he finished the verse of the song, although in not the same sweet tone.

"So sweetly the bird calls guiding her bonny lad home

As I'd call to you if you were still mine"

"Humph, why were you spying on me?" The ottermaid glared openly at Cheek. "Don't you know it is rude to spy in such a manner. "

Raising his paws Cheek abruptly turned an about face offering apology "Sorry miss, it wasn't like that, honest it wasn't. I didn't mean t'be spying y'see. I was heading for the river, and then I heard you're singing. Didn't want to jolly well want to disturb you."

The ottermaid looked puzzled by the otter's odd manner of speaking. Considering the stranger to be harmless she waded to the bank, eyeing him closely to see that he kept his head turned. From behind a bush she retrieved her smock and her woven sea grass pack.

"'tis safe now, you can turn around if you like." Approaching Cheek she lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

Spinning about he was just a whiskers breath away from her. She was a far more beautiful creature close up. Her garbs might be homely and simple, little more than a homespun sandy smock, but those eyes they were the deepest brown hues Cheek had ever seen. He could gaze into those eyes all day forgetting about the passage of time in an instant. Of course this particular Ottermaid wasn't about to let that happen.

"You feeling alright matey?" she asked nudging his shoulder again with her paw.

"Aye miss. " He replied hastily. "Cheek Stag Otter, at yer service m'lady." Rudder like tail flared out he made an elegant leg, bowing lowly before the maiden. The action didn't seem to impress her in the slightest. Crossing her paws in front of her she cast Cheek another curious glance. Was he a mad beast, or simply mocking her? She couldn't tell for certain, nor could she decide whether or not she liked him. This curious otter was in some ways charming, but there was something remarkably odd about him.

"What sort of a name is that for a creature?" she asked once he had risen.

"Well it's actually a funny story. Y'see my father Basil Stag Hare…" Cheek abruptly stopped noting the baffled look on the maid's face.

"An Otter named Hare that is strange."

"Well… y'see…" Wrinkling his nose he shrugged. "It's a tad complicated. Anyway, I haven't seen you in this part of Mossflower. Don't suppose you're part of Skipper's crew?"

"I 'ain't part of no crew. Guessing you 'ain't either. They call me Inlet by the by, not Inlet Squirrel or Inlet Badger, just Inlet." She winked.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance miss Inlet. I'm not part of Skipper's crew, I've come from Redwall. I am looking for the otter crew though. They're at the spring fishing camp, and I'm starting to worry I won't find them."

To this the maid laughed. Cheek couldn't sort out what was funny. Here he was with limited food supplies trying to track down a group of otters. As far as he could see, he was likely to get lost and wind up starving far from home.

"My my, you are a strange one. Lucky you bumped into me matey." Chuckling more she shook her head, patting him heartily on the shoulder before walking downstream along the river. "I'm not even from these parts and I can tell you where the fishing camp will be. Any otter would know. You need to be downstream where the water is calmer to catch shrimp. "

Inlet's logic seemed sensible and Cheek hurried to catch up. Something about her comment struck with him. Any otter would know then why didn't he?

A/n

Yeah yeah.. More is coming.


	4. Chapter 4

Both young otters walked for several minutes without speaking. Clearing his throat loudly, Cheek decided to try to find out a little more about this curious maiden.

"You said you were not from these parts, what part o'Mossflower do you come from?"

Inlet slowed her pace allowing the plumper Cheek to walk alongside her. "Not from Mossflower. My folk come from the Eastern shores."

"Folk? I thought you said you weren't part of jolly ole crew."

"Jolly ole… listen t'you, yer the fanciest talking otter I ever did hear. " Chuckling she jovially shoved Cheek's shoulder with a strength he hadn't expected the maid to have. She suddenly became very quiet, and those endless eyes glanced despairingly towards the riverbed. "I said I ain't part of no crew, never said it was always that way. Aye, there was a whole clan of us up that 'a' ways. Corsairs picked off most of us. The sea just about took the rest when they sailed to rid the eastern shore of those vermin scum. Meself and a pawful of others headed out on our own. I 'eared some say we was cursed, you believe in curses Cheek?"

Cheek had listened closely to the ottermaids tale. He felt deeply for her loss of her kin. Cheek could not remember his own parents, nor could he recall much of his life prior to his encounter with the Redwallers at Slagar's cart. Her question had unsettled him some, Redwallers tended not to be overly superstitious. The only supernatural lore he had encountered during his time at Abbey school pertained to Martin the Warrior, who was always a positive influence in the life of the Abbey. Realizing that Inlet was waiting for a reply he hastily gathered his thoughts.

"Well… I'm not sure if I do or not Inlet. "Rolling his shoulders he could think of no more to say on that matter.

"I'm sure you will soon enough Cheek, I've met plenty o'beasts who said they didn't believe in curses. They all start out the same, but in two thuds of a rudder they're cowering, and distancing themselves from me. No offence matey, but you and these otters will be the same way come another sunset. "Sighing heavily she licked dry lips and found Cheek blocking her steps forward. The young otter squared his shoulders trying to look brave or as he saw it, warrior like.

"I won't be like that Inlet. An' Skipper's crew won't neither. I promise you that miss." His belly rumbled, and peering up towards the sky he noted that it was nearing midday. "What say you to a spot o'lunch?"

Inlet was quick to agree and the pair settled against the riverbank for a noontide picnic. Cheek rummaged through his pack taking out the neatly wrapped food packets Sister Pansy had prepared for him. The good Sister, knowing Cheek's eating habits had tried to control his portions by dividing his traveling rations in neat barkcloth packets. Of course at breakfast Cheek had already devoured some of the packages marked for lunch and supper. Now there was little left to do him the rest of the trip, and he wasn't about to begrudge Inlet some of his food.

Untying the strings from the packages of cheese and bread he cut two even portions and passed one to Inlet. Smiling gently she accepted the food and watched as Cheek quickly set into his.

"Whoa, there matey slow down ye'll give yerself a tummy ache. Have you been fasting all season?"

Blushing behind his whiskers Cheek took a swig of spring water from his canteen and wiped his lips with the back of his paw. "Er, no."

Giggling Inlet chewed slowly on the bread, savoring the humble yet delicious Abbey fare. Her eyes glanced towards the river. "Don't suppose you could get me a fish? That would make this a fine little meal." She fluttered her lashes towards him imploringly.

Looking out towards the water, then back to the pretty ottermaid Cheek slowly got to his paws. He was far from a champion fisher, but he couldn't let Inlet know that. "I'll get you the biggest blooming fish I can find." He announced wading into the cool river.

Shivering some, he looked through the crystal clear waters all he could spy was the smooth pebbles and water grasses below. Wading deeper he caught sight of silver, a fish. It was a small one but large enough to make a meal for two young otters. He stood stalk still unsure of what manner of fish it was. Perhaps a carp, perch or even a young pike Cheek only knew the taste of fish not the look of them. Leaning downward he made to grab the fish with his bare paws. Catching the fish in such a manner was bound to impress young Inlet. As he made his attack, Cheek slipped on a loose river stone and went headlong into the river. The fish darted away, and the young otter went under, pulled along by the current. Sputtering Cheek found himself in a dangerous predicament. The weeds had snagged about his belt and hindpaws. Kicking madly he fought to free himself, his efforts kicked up river mud blocking his vision. At what felt like a life time, but was only a matter of moments Cheek finally freed himself. Getting up to his paws he spied a worried looking Inlet rushing towards him.

"You alright Matey?" The maid was about to dive in when Cheek nodded signaling all was well.

Shaking the water out of his ears, he felt a smack at his chest. Glancing down he saw his tunic was moving as though his heart was flapping out of his chest. Blinking he reached down the neck of his tunic, and these was the fish.

The two otters laughed as Cheek held aloft his catch in victory.

"Ye sure have an odd way of catching fish Cheek." Inlet giggled.

A/N

Well it is official this fic has taken on a life of its own. I started out trying to write a short fic about Cheek overcoming his awkward adolescent years, then next thing I know there's cursed otters… oh boy…

Don't fret I will keep writing, I hope you are all enjoying this crazy little journey we are taking.


	5. Chapter 5

After the eventful lunch the young otters headed back down stream searching for the fishing camp. Cheek eyed the pack Inlet carried. It seemed quite heavy for an otter her size, despite the fact it hadn't been slowing her down any. Deciding to act as the gentlebeast Basil wanted him to be, he offered to relieve her of the burden.

"I say miss Inlet that sure looks to be an awfully heavy load you're carrying. Mayhaps I can carry it awhile and save you the trouble."

At this Inlet became defensive, clutching the straps of her bag cautiously. "No, I carry me own pack thankee."

Cheek wrinkled his brow confused by the response to such a kind offer. Seeing how it affected his traveling companion he decided to say no more on the matter.

The sun was skirting the tree line in preparation for evening when the pair found the camp. As Inlet had stated, the camp was located in a quiet part of the river. The water was slower here, and all manner of water reeds and weeds sprang up from under the ripples of blue. Large willow trees provided extra cover in this narrower section of River Moss, their long tendrils dripping into the water. As the pair arrived the otter crew was concluding the day's activities. Shrimp nets were being carefully stretched over log forms, where they could be untangled and dried for the next day's use. Old otter wives packed away shrimp that had been drying on the flake. Even the young otter kits barely able to toddle were assigned tasks. Some helped their older siblings bury shrimp shells; others toddled about with pawfuls of twigs they had collected for firewood.

Skipper of otters a tall sturdy otter with a patch over his right eye was the first to catch sight of Cheek. He picked weeds from the net he had carefully stretched out on its form shouting good naturedly.

"Ho ho, look who decides to show himself. Must 'ave smelled cooking did ya Cheek? Bringing another famine face wit' ye as well I see. Come on in t'camp, an' tell me what brings young Cheek Stag Otter to me humble seasonal abode."

Cheek set down his haversack, and strode towards the otter chieftain. The burly otter caught the youngster in a tight hold. Pushing and shoving elder and youth wrestled, as otters are known to do. Letting out a laugh that was caught somewhere between a squeak and a gurgle, Cheek was caught up by the Skipper who couldn't resist but give Cheek a less than gentle pat on his ample belly before releasing him.

"I thought me ole matey Basil would have taught you not to fall for that no more. How is the old flop ears anyhow?"

Panting after the play fight Cheek took a moment before responding. "Barrel Stick Chair is the same as always. You know him, strong as Mr. Spikes damson wine, probably 'cause he sups enough of it. "His chuckles were cut off by a stern look from the Skipper. "Er, Basil said I could come out here and help you and the jolly ole otter crew for a while. Y'know bit of otterly adventure."

"Otterly adventure eh." Skipper scratched his chin thumping his rudder like tail on the bank. He had always hoped that Cheek would grow to be interested in what he considered to be otter activities. However, Cheek might mean well but he wasn't always the most reliable of creatures. The spring fishing camp was important to his crew. They had to catch and dry enough shrimp to last them until the coldest months of winter when the crew would move to Redwall Abbey. There was always the effort to get more than was needed; extra shrimp could be traded with other tribes for goods or supplies.

"Alright Cheek, I'll see about sorting out a bunk in the Holt for you an' this little friend of yours." Skipper nodded curiously towards the otter maid.

Cheek smiled and brought Inlet forwards. "This here is Inlet; she doesn't have a crew or family. Maybe she can stay here awhile."

Skipper's one remaining eye watched Inlet closely. As chief of the local otters he knew the otters of Mossflower, and from a number of other places. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place why. Setting that from his mind he offered a heavily tattooed paw in greeting. Nervously young Inlet shook paws.

"I suppose we can always find room for two more otters. " Cupping his paws to his mouth he shouted. "Joslyn, over here and lend a paw."

Glancing up from where she had been repairing damaged nets, the tall Joslyn turned in the direction of the call. She was the Skipper's daughter and many otters said that if females could rule as Skippers she would follow in her father's pawsteps. Joslyn was a bit of a curious river otter, she was jovial and hard working but she always had a wild streak. Unlike the other ottermaids she tended to dress in a way that emulated her perception of sea otters. During one winter at Redwall abbey she had commandeered one of Sister Pansy's soup cauldrons to dye all her clothes vibrant hues of purple, red, or yellow. Whenever she walked her heavy necklace made of polished pieces of shells clattered. Joslyn had become a bit of a crafts creature. She had a keen eye for finding the right shells, fallen feathers, or grasses to make jewelry. Joslyn also made use of old or broken objects she found. Her prized piece was a brass tail ring. After discovering a broken brass tankard in Mossflower woods the crafty otter maid worked away tirelessly with any tools she could find. The result was a highly polished tail ornament.

She smiled seeing Cheek. "Come t'do an honest day's labour huh?"

"Y'could say that missie." Cheek lightly bumped the taller maid with his tail.

"Joslyn take these two with you and go help Winnie with the hotroot soup. Mind yerself Cheek, no sneaky supping." Skipper narrowed his remaining eye shaking a warning paw at the tubby otter.

Throwing a comical salute Cheek went to fill the assigned duties. Winifred was a kindly otter, who usually inhabited Redwall abbey. From time to time she would visit with the otter crew helping out where she could. She wasn't the least bit surprised to see Cheek step into the Holt that was carved into the riverbank. With flour puffing up from her apron Winifred paced the small kitchen immediately assigning orders.

"Cheek peel those carrots and chop them up for the soup. Joslyn use one of those scarves of yours and cover your snout, I want you grind up some more hotroot peppers… an' you..." Winifred paused spying the maiden with her pack still on her back. "Set that pack down missy. Who are you anyway?"

"I'm Inlet and I'd rather keep my pack with me."

Checking on a bubbling pot of soup Winifred waved a paw of indifference. "Suit yourself Inlet, go on outside with Joslyn and see that the pepper is ground."

Cheek took up a small knife and began peeling carrots as order, winking to Inlet he watched the two maidens set to work. The hotroot pepper was crushed and prepared outdoors as the smell of the fiery pepper was sure to have every otter sneezing and coughing in the small kitchen. When the two maids had left Winifred questions Cheek on his curious friend.

"Who's this Inlet?" She asked getting right to the point.

"Ran into her upstream, she has no family or crew. She said she's from the east."

Putting the lid back on the giant pot, Winifred hung up her ladle on a small hook beside the hearth. "East huh, haven't seen Eastern River otters in this part of Mossflower for quite a few seasons. "

Part of Inlet's story had unsettled the young otter. Pausing in his work he asked. "Winnie, do you know of any curses."

"Cheek Stag Otter, a young gentlebeast such as you should not be cursing. If Basil heard you using foul language he would be very cross."

He shook his head rapidly. "No marm, I don't mean bad words, I mean like spells and bad things?"

"Bad things? Oh I've heard many ghost stories in my time. Otters and other water faring creatures have many legends and stories. Some beasts take that sort of thing very seriously. If they think another beast is cursed by evil spirits they won't let them anywhere near. I've heard tales of sailors being marooned by their crews because it was thought they were a bad omen. By why do you ask young'un?"

Cheek gulped hard, remembering what Inlet had said. He had wanted to tell Winifred about Inlets tale, but now he worried about what effect it might have on the maid. "Er... nothing, just one of those funny things that pops into me head."

By the time the sun set supper was ready. Outside the Holt a long table made from a halved tree trunk was set for the entire crew. Heaping bowls of shrimp 'n hotroot soup along with hearty barley bread was served up for all paws. Cheek sat next to Inlet gulping down his third bowl of the steamy concoction. A small otter kit sitting across from him watched in wide eyes admiration.

"Cheek, you gonna burst." He squeaked.

"Naw young'un I could eat maybe twenty more bowls before that happens. "

"Twenty?" The babe's jaw dropped at the prospect.

"But don't you go wasting vittles by bursting yerself young Cheek." Warned Skipper. "Would be a shame to litter me beautiful camp Willow with bits and pieces of your saucy pelt. "

Cheek had heard the name before. "Camp Willow?" he looked around excitedly. Cheek hadn't paid attention to many of his lessons, but he recalled learning about Camp Willow in his Abbey history lessons. It had been the home of the local otter tribe back when Martin the Warrior freed Mossflower form the wildcat.

"Aye the same, although you will be hard pressed to find bits of the original Holt. Otters have used this site for generations. Good fishing grounds and a safe berth for the night. It has been a safe haven for otters from long before Martin showed up in these lands. "

The young otter set down his spoon, for the first time all evening food held little interest to him. His heart raced knowing he could be sitting in the same spot the fabled heroes of the past had. His dreams were halted when Joslyn bumped into him. He glanced down to see the tall otter maid looking about on the ground and under the footpaws of those enjoying supper.

"What name of fur are you doing Jos?"

She stood up bumping her head on the bench. Rubbing the spot ruefully she sighed. "Me tailring is missing. It must have slipped off or something. I don't get it, I wear it swimming and everything and it never falls off. I had it on when I met up with you, and when I was crushing the hotroots, but I ain't seen in since. "

"Keep retracing your pawsteps I'm sure it will turn up." Inlet suggested sweetly.

Gritting her teeth Joslyn struggled to return the maidens smile. "Aye, I'll do that."


	6. Chapter 6

After the meal was finished the otters went to their beds. As Skipper promised a bunk was found for Cheek amongst the sleeping quarters for other young otters. Cheek was getting used to sharing living space with other creatures. From the time his hare cousin arrived, the pair had shared a room. The young otter had grown to miss how Tummscoff would chatter incessantly in his sleep. When Basil decided to move the little family to Redwall, Cheek had to dorm with other novices and dibbuns. Here at camp he had trouble sleeping. He laid his head on a moss filled pillow, listening to the snores of other otters. His broad flat nose twitched as a wave of unfamiliar smells greeted him. Perhaps this was the cause for his wakefulness, he began to wonder. The Holt smelled of earth, followed by a dank almost musty smell having been closed up all winter long. There was also the smell of other otters, sweat from a hard day's labour and wet pelts. Pulling the quilt over his nose he tried to get some sleep.

Morning hadn't yet broken when Cheek awoke to somebeast tugging on his tail, which had draped down the side of his bunk in his restless sleep. Pulling his rudder away he peered down to see Joslyn in the low light, paws on hips with an exasperated look on her face.

"Strike me rudder, I haven't seen such a dozy creature in all me seasons. " She scolded him.

Hopping down, Cheek rubbed sleep from his eyes and noticed all of the bunks were now empty. "It can't even be dawn yet." He yawned stretching his shoulders and trying to ignore the annoyed looks Joslyn shot him.

"Aye, work starts early. Come on Da' says I'm supposed to help you, an' there a'int no way I'm letting some fancy rudder beastie like ye slow me down." She pressed a hefty oatcake into Cheek's paws. "There's your breakfast. Scoff it down sharpish, we have nets to set."

When it came to eating, Cheek needed no second bidding. The oatcake was gone in a flash. And he followed the ottermaid out to the river. Among the working otters he spied a rather unhappy looking Inlet weaving willow twigs into a mesh platform.

"Can't Inlet come along too?" Cheek asked imploringly.

Joslyn's shelled necklace clattered as she whipped about. "No, she's doing maids work. Making sure the drying flakes are ready for the catch we haul up. "

"Then why aren't you doing that too?" Cheek immediately regretted his question. The tall ottermaid towered over the portly otter. Growling darkly her many ornaments jangled in frustration. "Never mind, sorry I asked." Cheek put up his paws in a sign of peace and said nothing more until they arrived at the site.

Still annoyed with Cheek she passed him none too gently one of the large shrimp nets that had dried on its form over the evening. He struggled with the mass of netting, which proved far heavier than anticipated. Waddling under the weight he stumbled towards the water's edge. Joslyn was quick to correct Cheek for any errors she saw.

"Don't bunch up the netting like that, I don't want it tangling. An' don't splash in the shallows like that!" muttering under her breath, she snatched up a section of netting and lead the young otter into the river. "Move slow like, ye don't want to startle any fishes. " When she was up to her middle she tapped a large pole sticking from the water. "Hook the net onto the latch there." She waved a flipper towards a small wooden pin. "There's another pole on the other side t' keep this net in place until we're ready to move it. " With powerful limbs Joslyn was a champion swimmer, carrying the netting she stretched it along the waterway waiting for Cheek to follow after. Not used to swimming such distances, it took time before Cheek caught up. When he did he huffed and puffed, but managed to hook the net into the second pole.

"We may just make a fisher beast out of ye yet."She laughed helping him from the water.

At the compliment from the Skipper's daughter he flushed, and shook his coat dry. "What next miss?"

"Next, cup of tea in the woods." Joslyn winked and took Cheek's paw dragging him along with her.

At the woodland fringe there was indeed a small fire going, being tended by Winifred and a group of old otter wives. A fat copper kettle dangled over the fire, suspended from a wooden tripod. Spotting the approaching young ones, Winifred took the kettle from the fire and made hot tea in two earthen mugs. Cheek accepted the warm drink with thanks, but couldn't help but be confused.

"This can't be it, set some nets and call it a day? I thought fishing was supposed to be hard work. An' if this is it why did we get up so bally early?"

Joslyn shook her head drinking deeply from her mug. "That's just the start of it. We have to set nets early 'cause the shrimp and fishes run early. Once we set the nets we take a little break. Then Skipper gives us our daily duties. Every beast must help set the nets or ready the flakes after that there's other work to be done. Hush now Da's about to set orders."

Skipper got the attention of his crew, setting his mug down the burly otter began to speak.

"Alright me hearties, as ye all know we're being joined by two new beasts. Cheek o'course from out Redwall way, and 'is little friend Inlet. Be patient wit the pair of them they're still learning. Miss Inlet you can help the other maids and wives tend the flake. Cheek, go on with Jos and keep watch. I wager that would be something y'can handle. "

Cheek was accustomed to _daily briefings _as Basil liked to call them. Every morning Basil would make a long speech about what was to be done that day. During these briefings Cheek was expected to listen in respectful silence, until Basil was finished, which some days took over an hour. The otters however moved the moment their duty was assigned. So Cheek was rather caught off guard when Joslyn whisked him away the minute Skipper mentioned their names. Mind still whirling the maid thrust a sling and stone pouch into his paws.

"Know what these are mate?"

"Aye, I'm not a blithering idiot." Cheek grumbled fixing the sling and pouch to his belt.

The maiden winked. "Just checking. I take it ye know how to use them. An' this too." She tossed him a light wooden javelin.

"I can sling stones with the best of them. " He caught the javelin testing the weight of it in his paws. "As for this, it isn't something I'm jolly used to but it will do in a pinch."

Fixing her own sling to her broad belt the tall otter maid looked curiously to Cheek."Why d'you talk like that?"

"Talk like wot?" Cheek returned her curious glances.

"Y'know…" She paused trying to find words to explain it. "Fancy like, wit' jolly this or bally that. What in the name rudders n' sails is bally supposed t'mean anyhow?"

The young otter shifted his paws somewhat embarrassed. "I haven't a bally clue...er sorry did it again didn't I?"

Joslyn smiled leaning against her javelin. "Naw, no need t'be sorry. It's kinda cute actually."

Flushing from rudder to nose tip Cheek abruptly changed the subject. "What are we supposed to be watching for?" They were a bit further from the camp now, under the cover of the willows and birch trees.

"Vermin and the like. Da' says after Matthias the Warrior slayed ole poisontooth all manner of thieves and vermin sorts weren't as afraid t'leave their dens. Y'see that snake is said t'ave been the most wicked creature t'ever live. But 'e didn't care if you be goodbeast or vermin, he'd eat you just the same. Now that the snake is long dead no beast is as frightened as they once were. "

"But I thought Matthias the Warrior, fought off the vermin?"

"Oh aye, Cluny and his horde. But there has always been robbers and vermin folk in Mossflower. They ain't all cutthroats, mostly bullies who look to steal from weaker creatures. But we need to watch over the camp t'make sure none of those beasts try to tamper wit' our nets or take our catch. "

Seeing the logic Cheek set his sights far into the woodlands trying to listen and watch as Basil had taught him. He wanted to do well by his father, and by the Skipper, and it wouldn't hurt to show off to the Skipper's pretty daughter either.


	7. Chapter 7

All was well in the land of Mossflower, song birds picked up their spring melodies and young damsel flies flitted across the water's edge. Leaves had already begun breaking free of their buds, giving the forest a fresh green hue. Cheek leaned heavily on his javelin admiring the spring beauty all around him. Although, his eyes tended to drift from the woodlands to the ottermaid standing alongside him. Joslyn seemed far prettier than she had that past winter. Cheek wondered why he hadn't taken the time to speak with her more, during the cold months the crew lived at Redwall. She had always been busy helping her father chop firewood, or tend the great pots of soup in the kitchen. Anytime spent not doing chores were spent with the otter crew or other young abbey dwellers. Cheek spent most of his time getting up to mischief with his cousin Tummscoff. He had been so distracted with pinching pasties and planning grand adventures that he hadn't noticed the lovely maiden. Now as he stood tongue tied alone with her on a beautiful spring day, he wished he had taken the time to get to know her. How he wished his cousin was here, Tummscoff was the charming one. Then again perhaps Tummscoff was too charming at times.

Raising a paw up to the sky Joslyn guessed the time by the position of the sun. "Soon time to return to camp mate. Those nets will be hauled up and there will be shrimp to shuck and dry. Y'know how to shuck shrimp Cheek?"

At the question he shifted his paws. "Not as such."

"Why am I not surprised. Well no mater matey, I'll show you. I'm the best there is at getting the shells off shrimps."

"Be that so missie?" A voice boomed from behind them. It came from a burly otter. In one paw he held a javelin that in his massive paw seemed no bigger than a toothpick. "Don't let your Pa hear you getting on like that. As I remembers it he's still the champion shucker for this crew. Off ye go young 'uns I'll take up the watch."

It was Joslyn's turn to flush. Shooting the large otter a frosty glare she tramped her paws hard on the soft ground. She hadn't liked being called out for her boasting. However as it is with most otters, the foul mood didn't last long. Once back at camp she returned to her old self. There were cheers and barks of excitement as the nets were being hauled from the water. Each teeming with silvery shrimp wriggling and jiggling the nets. On the bank a large iron pot bubbled over a fire. As quickly as the otter crew could they got the shrimp clear of the net and tossed them in the boiling water. The water hissed and sputtered as steam escaped from their shells boiling the watershirmp from silver to tender pink. And old otter wife stirred the contents of the pot with a heavy slatted ladle. Lifting the ladle the boiling water drained through the slits leaving only the pink shrimp behind. Young otters waited with small baskets each was carefully loaded up with watershrimp and carried away to the flakes. Taking Cheek's paw Joslyn led him towards the first stage of the drying process.

"I thought you said this was maids work?" He muttered remembering a comment Joslyn made earlier.

"'tis, but all otters should know how to do it." Releasing his paw she joined the other maids and young kits as they set to work. Each of the otters sat on large cut pieces of a log which served as stools. They were arranged in a half circle pattern with a large bucket in the centre. Beside each was two baskets one with shelled shrimp the other with peeled shrimp. Watching closely Cheek studied as each would take a shrimp from the basket on their right, and expertly twist off the head and peel back the outer shell. The undesired parts went into the centre bucket while the meat went to the basket on their left. Joslyn relieved an ottermaid of her duties and patted the log for Cheek to have a seat.

"Sit here Cheek and I'll show you how it is done."

Cheek sat down slowly and Joslyn placed a shrimp in his paws. Taking one in her own, she demonstrated the twist required to remove the head. With tongue sticking out past his lips Cheek concentrated and tried to imitate her results. When he twisted the shrimp he pressed too hard. He was able to remove part of the shell but didn't remove the head entirely. Green and black ooze covered his paws and seeped from the remaining shell.

"What's that?" He asked venturing a sniff at the odd substance covering his paws.

"That be the brains and innards." Joslyn remarked matter of factly.

Making a face Cheek wiped his paws off on his tunic. Joslyn offered him a small knife and guiding his paws showed him an alternate way.

"Sometimes it's too hard to twist the head off so you can cut it with a knife." She guided his paws slicing the head off the shellfish then showing him how to cleanly cut free the rest of the shell. Releasing his paw,she smiled. "Use the knife until ye get the hang of it. Catch up now, speed and precision is the thing." Leaving him be a moment, she rolled up another log seat for herself. Kits were bringing more and more cooled baskets of shrimp. Setting them beside each of the shuckers they would take away the baskets of peeled shrimp replacing the baskets with empty ones.

Cheek was amazed at the speed some of the workers could prepare the shellfish. Joslyn's paws seemed to fly through her basket, and he had only cleaned five. Wincing his paw was pricked by one of the pointy spikes protruding from the shrimp. Shaking his smarting paw he reached in and took another, trying to not feel squeamish at the lifeless black eyes dangling from their sockets.

An otter maid started up a lively tune to help keep the workers in time.

"Oh this be the place where the otter crew gathers

When winter has fled and the springs come around

All sizes and figures using nets, lines or jiggers

We congregate here in our spring fishing ground

There's kits of all ages and old 'uns and maidens.

They're splashing and playing but none 'ill sure drown,

For their chasing the fish, for their hot supper's dish

An' we'll catch lots of shrimp at our spring fishing ground.

The big laddo there is the Skipper of otters

He's the best one for catching the shrimp I'll be bound

Oh ho what's the fuss, look 'is nets fit to bust.

One more net full of shrimp from our spring fishing ground."

The maid sang the song twice more with the other otters joining in. It didn't take long for Cheek to learn the words, and soon he too added his voice to the hearty singing.

One of the young maids whom Joslyn had relieved earlier returned to where the shrimp were being peeled. Looking about the baskets she sighed heavily.

"What's the matter mate?" Joslyn inquired.

The young maid scratched her ear trying to think hard. "I must have misplaced me knife. Have ye' seen it. It's a small blade with a fishbone handle. I was using it earlier but I must have misplaced it."

Joslyn shook her head."Seems a number of things have gone missing."

A/N

Ten points if you guess the folk song I based the song off of.


	8. Chapter 8

Cheek set down his knife, and wiped his slimy paws on the grass. "A number of things have gone missing?" he asked joining in the search.

"Aye, me brass tail ring fer starters. Some of the other maids said earrings and bracelets have also gone astray." Joslyn explained as she lifted the shrimp baskets.

"An' I 'eard Winnie say she's missing one of her soup ladles. A carved apple one Ambrose Spike gave 'er last fall when she helped 'im brew the October Ale. "The young ottermaid explained.

"Hmm... Quite the jolly ole mystery." Cheek scratched his chin continuing to shift through shrimp.

Picking up a basket of peeled shrimp, Joslyn thrust it into Cheek's paws. "We'll keep up the search 'ere mate. You take this shrimp to the drying flakes. Mayhaps ye'll spot the knife on the way there."

"Good idea, widen the search area an' all that." Winking he carried the load towards the flakes. He kept his eyes sharp, watching the ground in case he spied the knife along the way. He was so focused on his search that he nearly banged into Winifred otter, who was overseeing the drying process.

"Well blow me down, if it isn't young Cheek. Careful not to drop those shrimp young'un." Chuckling she took the basket from the younger otter. With ease, she tossed the pink shrimp over a large mesh drying pallet known as the flake.

"Y'here t'learn how to dry shrimp?" She asked, in her usual friendly way.

"Well, actually I came to look for a missing knife, but I'd be happy to learn." Cheek beamed the eagerness clear in his eyes.

Winifred patted a large sack filled with pounded sea salt. "First take a pawful o' salt, and sprinkle it over the shrimps. Then the sun will take care o' the rest. "She held up a short pine branch with bristles stripped away except for the very end. "We use these to swat away the flies an' wandering paws that may try to snap up a quick snack." She winked, knowing all too well about Cheek's appetite.

Curling his rudder the young otter looked with a hint of embarrassment towards the ground. "Yes marm."

Inlet was also helping to dry the shrimp. Her pack rested at her footpaws as she tossed pawfuls of salt over the fresh shrimp. Cheek smiled towards her, pleased when his smile was returned. Winifred noting the glances between the two young otters shook her head and cleaned her paws with her apron. "Well I best be seeing to lunch. We have many hungry otters t'feed. Cheek, would you be a dear and mind the flake till I can get back?"

Forgetting all about the missing knife, he nodded eagerly. "Yes marm, y'can jolly well count on me." Beaming he saluted with the pine twig, accidently smacking himself with the needles. Rubbing his forehead ruefully he set the twig down.

"How has you're day been?" He asked the strange ottermaid.

Inlet rolled her shoulders looking most forlorn. "Nobeast really likes me. I suspect they know I'm cursed."

"Don't say things like that miss. The otter crew doesn't believe stuff like that. Not for one blinking minute."

"Oh don't they." Her deep brown eyes appeared misty as she spoke. "The Skipper's daughter sure doesn't like me. Haven't you seen the way she acts around me? She practically accused me of taking all those things that went missing."

Cheek had noticed Joslyn's cold mannerism around Inlet. Quick to comfort Inlet he tried to down play the situation. "Well I know your no blooming thief. Joslyn takes some time to warm up to new creatures. I'm sure you'll be fast friends by tea time."

"Y' think so?" Inlet sniffed softly.

Patting her heartily on the back he nodded affirming. "I'd strike me reputation on it."

Cheered up the maid set to work flipping over the drying shrimp so that they could dry evenly. Following her lead, Cheek followed suit. He couldn't help but notice the pack, which Inlet always seemed to keep close to paw.

"Why do you still have your travel bag with you?"

"I like t' keep me things close. Tis all I have in the world since me family died."

Sensing the subject caused Inlet great pain, he decided to make no further comment on the curious behavior of his new friend. Basil had told him seasons back that beasts sometimes have odd ways of expressing loss and grief. Perhaps this was Inlets way of coping with the loss of her family.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time the otter crew paused for their lunch, word about lost things had spread throughout the fishing camp. Skipper between mouthfuls of soup heard the complaints of his tribe. It seemed more and more items went missing by the hour. Everything from small trinkets to tools, anything small enough to whisk away seemed to have grown legs and wandered off. This troubled Skipper greatly. Every so often, an otter might misplace something, and believe it to be stolen. The lost item usually turns up in a day or two, and all is well again. Other times, old otter wives may accuse one another for taking crockery or linins. Typically it ends up being one big misunderstanding, and friendships are mended once the mistake comes to light. However, these happenings were far different. Never before had things vanished on this scale.

Skipper's worrying was brought to an end by Brookbuck, a rather tubby otter whose middle bobbed whenever he walked. Tugging an ear respectfully to his chieftain he relayed his news.

"Guosim headed down river. Tangleroot an' I were watching the river when the whole tribe came paddling down. Log-a-Log Flugg wanted me t'ask if y'wouldn't mind moving the nets so they can pass through. Y'see they has lots o' little'uns this season, an' it would be 'ard on them to portage around us."

Skipper winked to the fat otter with his remaining eye. "I 'suppose such arrangements could be made for me ole matey Flugg." The goodbeasts that lived and worked along the river always tried to show respect and tried to accommodate one another's needs. Skipper knew the fishing had been good that morning, so good in fact that they had dried double the shrimp from the previous day. Putting this into consideration the jovial otter decided his crew deserved a rest. "Harken t'me Brookbuck, I want ye t'pass this message onto the Guosim. Tell them to chart their course fer Camp Willow. If they be in no great hurry they can moor their longboats at our Holt. I'll 'ave the crew haul up nets, an they can join us for supper. "

Brookbuck's chubby features lit up in delight at the prospect of the shrews joining the otter crew for an evening of sporting and feasting. Tugging his ear again he wobbled off to relay the news.

Watching the fat otter leave Skipper set aside his bowl, rising slowly and smacking his powerful rudder on the bank. Everybeast turned their attention to the Skipper of otters. Spoons and bowls were set down. Even the smallest kit was quiet, when Skipper rose to speak.

"Now me lovelies, we're gonna end work t'day early. But that means double work in the morrow. The shrews need to pass this way, so I want nets hauled up sharpish. They'll be staying with us a while, so mind your manners you young riverdogs."

There were many barks of excitement from the younger otters. Delighted that work would end early, and not caring that tomorrow might mean longer hours.

"Now, I've 'eared that many of ye 'ave been missing things. No need to be accusing anybeast or pointing paws at one another. Come t'me with any grievances, and I'll sort it out sharpish. Now… nets need hauling."

Cheek came to his paws; he helped Inlet up from where she sat. "Do you want to help me with the nets? Joslyn showed me how to set them earlier, I think I'm getting jolly good at this net business."

The ottermaid shook her head. "No I'm going to stay and clean up after lunch. Winifred said she wants me help with the dishes. "The maid sighed heavily, not anticipating the task ahead. Shouldering her pack she waved goodbye.

Joslyn crept up on Cheek and yanked his rudder from behind. The young otter yelped jumping in surprise."Ha ha, got ye good matey. Say, why's Inlet still carrying around that pack o'hers?" Skipper's daughter watched the strange otter suspiciously.

Pulling Joslyn closer, Cheek whispered the explination he had been given. "Her family was killed by corsairs; I don't think she's accepted that they're gone. She likes t'keep all her belongings close, probably because they remind her of home."

Seeing how concerned Cheek was, Joslyn smiled lightly and nodded. "I still think it's strange, but if what you say is true then who can blame her. " Then tugging his tail again she laughed. "Come on lazy rudder, we have nets t'move."

…

With the anticipation of an evening free of labour, the otters made quick work of the nets. In no time all of the nets were laid neatly to dry. The shrimp that had dried packed away, and the fishing site prepared for the next morning.

Log-a-Log Flugg and his Guosim paddled into the calm waters. The otters cheered and waved as the bright head scarves could be seen turning the bend. Raising their paddles the shrews gave a mighty yell.

"Log-a-log-a-log a-log a-log a-log a-log a-looog!"

Pulling into the bank Flugg and his shrews lashed the log boats together, so that they formed a long flotilla. Stowing his oar Flugg waved a paw to Skipper.

"Well if it isn't the Skipper 'o Otters. How are you ye ole riverdog?"

Giving the shrew a hearty paw shake Skipper laughed good naturedly. "Old as the hills, but still as quick as a slip-stream."

Patting the skipper's middle none too gentle Flugg added. "Aye, an nearly as round as that big soup cauldron of yours."

The shrews quickly mingled in among the otter crew. Young kits and shrewbabes splashed in the shallows, watched carefully by their mothers. Winifred with the assistance of several Guosim cooks set to work preparing an evening meal for both tribes. Flagons of Shrewbeer were brought up from the longboats and tankards passed around. Old friends were reunited with old friends, and new friends were made.

A great bonfire was built along the bank, a safe distance from both the Holt and longboats. Joslyn sat with Fluggo and Flinko the sons of Log-a-log. She beckoned both Cheek and Inlet to join them. Having spent some time at Redwall the young shrew boys knew Cheek.

"What are you doing here?" Fluggo asked as Cheek came to sit beside him.

"I'm here t'help the crew for a while." Cheek explained proudly.

"Ole stomach on legs finally let y'out o' his sight then." The elder of the brother's Flinko chuckled.

Cheek didn't take kindly to Flinko's tone of voice. "Basil suggested I get out and see the world. If I'm to be a warrior, I need to spend some time out in Mossflower."

"You, a warrior? Now that I'd like t'see."

"You just wait and see Flinko m'lad, I will be a fine warrior. The best their blooming is."

"Listen to 'im. Yer sounding more like one of those rabbets than an' otter."

Joslyn nudged Flinko trying to warn him but it was too late. Cheek sprang up from where he sat his paws curled into fists. "Have at ye, Flinko. I'll not have ye insulting Basil Stag Hare in my presence."

Flinko quickly saw the error of his ways and quickly apologized. "Sorry Cheek, put yer paws down. I didn't mean t'insult yer Da like that."

Inlet was lost by the whole conversation. "What's all this about?"

Fluggo being a chatty little shrew barged in, explaining. "Cheek's dad's a hare."

Remembering what Cheek had said when they first met, Inlet blinked several times. "Really?"

Cheek was about to explain further, when Joslyn narrowed her eyes at the maid. She was quick to stand in defense of her friend. "What should it matter who or what Cheek's dad is. My dad says Basil's one of the best fighters in all o'Mossflower. He says don't let their funny talking and appetites fool you, a hare's the best matey you can have in a fight. So the way I see it, if Cheek's an otter raised by a hare, he'll be twice the warrior the rest of us will be."

The shrew brothers raised their beakers of cordial cheering on Joslyn's proclamation. Cheek flushed deeply, shuffling his paws embarrassed by the attention.


	10. Chapter 10

With a bonfire ablaze, and plenty of good food and friends, the Guosim and otter tribe were settling in for an evening of festivities. The otter and shrew cooks had outdone themselves. In addition to the customary giant pot of shrimp n' hotroot soup there was a wide range of other specialties served. The shrews baked their prized shrew cakes, which proved to be a favourite amongst the young otter kits. Over the fires cooks prepared massive pans of skilly and plum duff. There was also no shortage of shrew beer, nettle beer, or dandelion cordial. A group of Guosim shrews produced reed flutes and began singing songs around the campfire. Not to be outdone, some of the otter crew produced small drums and hornpipes, and regaled the assembly with some of their own shanties. There was much paw tapping, and boisterous voices joining in for both efforts. It didn't matter if the singers could carry a tune, or even knew the lyrics, what mattered was the volume.

Skipper sat with Log-a-log drinking tankards of nettle beer, and watching the younger beasts enjoying the spring evening.

The shrew chief laughed watching his two sons dancing comically with Joslyn, while a jaunty waltz was being played. "Oh to be young and foolish again, eh, Skip?"

Setting his tankard down the Skipper winked with his remaining eye. "I dunno Flugg, I'm still young, an' I knows yer still foolish."

Tubby Brookbuck waddled up to his Skipper, tugging an ear respectfully towards both leaders. "A word Skip." He mumbled lowly.

Excusing himself from his shrew friend, the two otters held a short whispered conversation. Skipper sighed heavily nodding as Brookbuck related his news. "I'll sort this out matey, mark me words I will." He sighed all the harder, and sat back on the rock he had been sharing with Log-a-log.

"What's the trouble mate?" Log-a-log asked, noting the troubled look on his pal's features.

"There's been trouble apaw for the past day or so. Things 'ave gone missing. "He looked over the crew, his keen eye picking out the curious ottermaid Inlet. "Do ye know anything about that maid?"

The shrew followed the Skipper's line of sight, and nodded. "Aye, spied that rag-bottom up river a few days back. Had that pack with her, but didn't stay around once she caught sight o'us. Thought I hadn't spotted 'er, but there are few things that misses me eyes. Came across some bank voles, said they fed her and treated her kindly but their best candlesticks vanished same as she."

The Skipper sighed heavier. "I suspected as much, but I do hates when the troublemakers are so young."

The shrew could understand the otter chief's dilemma. Placing a paw on his friend's brawny shoulders, he offered some words of advice. "Skip, if ye turn a blind eye the little miss will only think she can keep getting away with it. Next thing you know she will do far more harm to good creature, instead of just taking the odd trinket."

Inlet sat glumly beside Cheek. He had tried to lift her spirits, bringing her great helpings of hotroot soup, although as her appetite was small by comparison, he ended up eating most of it. Cheek had even offered to dance with the ottermaid, so that she wouldn't feel left out. Inlet had refused and leaning against her pack she sighed, fluttering her eyelashes towards Cheek.

"They all know I'm cursed now. I'm going to have to leave, tonight; else they will force me out. That's what they did afore."

"Force you out? Oh no miss, that's not about to happen. No beast here believes in any silly curses." Cheek patted her paw assuredly.

Having whirled around again and again with the shrew brothers, Joslyn sat heavily down panting hard from all the dancing. "Whew! What's this about curses?" She asked her pals.

Inlet passed Cheek a warning glare, but Cheek couldn't keep such a secret from Joslyn. He trusted the Skipper's daughter, and was certain she could assist his new friend. "Inlet believes her family is cursed."

Casting a suspicious glance towards Inlet, Joslyn tapped her rudder to the ground. "Be that so?"

Inlet looked increasingly uncomfortable. "See Cheek, I told you I was cursed, even she doesn't like me." She pointed an accusing paw towards the other maid.

To this Joslyn became most defensive. "I'd like ye well enough if you weren't always sneaking about, an' lurking like yer up to something. Ain't no curse that has beasts put off ye, that's for sure. "

As Skipper and Log-a-Log were crossing over to where the young ones were sat, they found Inlet, the shrew brothers, and Joslyn arguing. Cheek tried to break up the argument but was having little luck. Her temper flaring Joslyn; being a larger and quicker maid, snatched Inlet's pack and dumped the contents on the ground. Inlet let out a screech as though she had been wounded. With a clatter all of the otter crew's missing belongings fell on the bank.

"This is why nobeast likes you. See Cheek, 'tis no curse, just a dirty thief!" Joslyn dropped the empty pack and scooped up her brass tail ring.

Cheek stared at Inlet flabbergasted. "But… you told me… you lied to me?" He gritted his teeth, feeling ashamed for believing her words. "You had me believing all these creatures were being cruel to you, when you were stealing from them. How could you Inlet?"

Inlet gazed at her stolen treasures then back towards Cheek. "I wanted you to like me, and then we could have gone off together. We could have had lots of adventures you and me."

Cheek turned his head in disgust folding his paws. "I wouldn't go adventuring with a blagard like you missie."

Skipper put a firm paw on Inlets shoulders. "Joslyn, see to it that the crew has their belongings back. As for ye miss, I think it is high time we start hearing the truth."

Sitting her down on a small bolder, Skipper waited for her to tell her story. Knowing there was nothing else to do but tell the truth, Inlet began relating her tale. As she had told Cheek, she was an orphan. However, she didn't know where she was from, or what had happened to her parents. She had made up the story about her family and the curse to win over kind hearted creatures. Inlet had never meant to be so deceitful, but there came a time when the lie got to be so big, she couldn't stop telling it. She started taking food because she was hungry. When she got away with stealing food, it seemed so easy to take other things she wanted.

Skipper listened to her tale, weighing his options heavily. When Inlet had finished talking he crossed his paws and took a moment to think. Inlet held her breath, waiting for him to banish her and force her out. However, the kindly Skipper smiled and spoke gently to her.

"Well missie that be quite a tale. I don't approve of thieves, but I hear from Winifred that you are a hard worker. See to it that everything you stole from other beasts, is returned an' I think me crew can find it in them t'forgive ye. As you has nowhere else t'go, I think its best ye stay here. Can't have you wanderin' about Mossflower thieving as y'were. I'll let you stay on with me crew, provided, ye work hard and give up stealing."

Inlet wept tears of joy and nodded several times. "Yes Skipper, I'll do as y'say Skipper."

Patting the maid on the back he nodded approvingly. "Well done, don't prove me false young miss. Otherwise I'll be forced to send y'out, an' I know y'don't want that."

Inlet shook her head, not wanting to wander alone any more.

Cheek watched the whole proceedings not sure what to think. He thought it very kind of the Skipper to forgive Inlet for her misdeeds, but at the same time found it hard to forgive her for lying to him. He remembered all his Abbey lessons, the ones about being good to one another and forgiving others. Sam Squirrel had been quick to forgive him, after his transgression. So, perhaps, he could forgive Inlet as well. The maid looked imploringly at him and he frowned.

"I'm not jolly happy with you miss. But, I will forgive you for the lies." He turned, he couldn't sit with her any more, not right now.

Joslyn was busy returning the many items Inlet had pinched. The otters were pleased to have their belongings returned. The mood seemed to lift instantly, and even though the thief was discovered all seemed to be forgiven.

"Why the long face Cheek?" She asked spying her friend.

"Just don't like being lied to, that's all." Cheek grumbled.

"Ah, come on mate. I know it doesn't feel that good, but 'tis time y'learned not every creature is honest and good like those in that Abbey. Everybeast has their reason for being as they are. Inlet lied 'cause she thought she had to. I didn't like it any more than you, but I know she had reasons. "

"I know... but all the same…" further words were cut short, as Joslyn leaned down to kiss Cheek lightly on the cheek. The young otter flushed deeply, finding himself tongue tied.

"That's what I like about you Cheek, yer sweet an' kind hearted. Bit naive at times, but that's what makes ye likable." Winking the Skipper's daughter set back to the task assigned at her.

Watching her go, Cheek decided, he defiantly needed to spend more time with Joslyn.

**A/N**

**Well with that I think I will wrap this little fic up. Don't fret, there is still a Summer fic left to go. So as you guessed, Inlet was a thief. I suppose Skipper could have sent her packing, but he is a kindly fellow and willing to give even the rogues a second chance. Big thank you to everyone who has read this fic, and a bigger thanks to all who took the time to write a review. I do appreciate all your kind words and support. **

**Take care**

**Killy**


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